


Mickey's Advice to the Doctor

by hellostarlight20



Series: The Adventures of Bad Wolf and the TARDIS...and their Doctor [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Mickey and TARDIS bonding, Mickey has advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:09:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after Rose saves the Doctor by flying the TARDIS via touch, Mickey has some words for the Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mickey's Advice to the Doctor

Mickey eyed Rose, who sat on the sofa with a book she seemed absorbed in. It’d been only a day since that freaky fading bit while Rose and the TARDIS did some sort of Bonding-to-Rescue-the-Doctor thing.

It freaked Mickey out. It freaked the Doctor out. The only person not freaked out was Rose. Mickey looked up at the library ceiling. And possibly the TARDIS.

“So you’re good?” he asked.

The TARDIS lights dimmed then brightened just enough for him to notice. Mickey sighed. “Wasn’t talking to you, TARDIS,” he muttered just loud enough for him and the ship to hear.

Rose looked up at him and blinked. He waited while she focused in on him, for her to nod as she had the previous three times he asked. Maybe four…possibly a solid dozen. He worried for her.

“No after effects of flying the TARDIS by touch?” he continued.

Rose shrugged, a fluid, graceful move that looked about as sensuous as a shrug could look. Not sure what to do with that move, Mickey crossed his arms over his chest. It was better than leaving them to hang, useless, by his sides and he didn’t know what else to do with them.

“I’m fine. The Doctor ran a bunch of tests, nothing out of the ordinary.” Rose smiled up at him.

But there was something lurking there, a hint of more he’d never seen before, a spark of…of…Mickey didn’t know. It wasn’t…bad. Or dangerous. Merely…more.

“All right.” He nodded. “Good.” He stepped back. “I’m gonna get a snack, want anything?”

“No thanks,” Rose said with that sensual gracefulness and enigmatic smile.

Mickey nodded again and turned away. Once in the corridor, he touched the wall. “All right, then, where’s the Doctor?”

The lights brightened to his immediate right and he headed in that direction, trusting the TARDIS to lead him where he needed to go. Three turns, one flight of steps down, through two doors (why he needed to trek through doors, Mickey didn’t even want to know) and he entered what looked like the Doctor’s workshop.

“And you claim I’m a distracted mess,” he muttered the instant he stepped foot inside.

“If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” The Doctor, jacket tossed over a chair and shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, finally looked up from the wires he soldered, magnifying glasses over his own glasses.

He looked ridiculous. Mickey let it go. A true sign of just how worried he was.

“What’s wrong with Rose?” Mickey demanded instead. Arms once more crossed he widened his stance and waited.

The Doctor jerked up, tore off the magnifying glasses and for one blink of a moment, looked absolutely terrified. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “What’s wrong with her?”

And that was when Mickey remembered the Doctor wasn’t a genius human with a nifty time and space ship. (The TARDIS hummed appreciatively and Mickey almost grinned at Her preening but this was far too important for distractions.)

The Doctor’s normally brown eyes churned with a miasma of—galaxies. Of suns being born and dying, of planets on fast forward through eons of history. Of life and death.

Mickey fancied he could fall in and drown. But then he shook his head and held up a hand. “She’s fine. Reading Shakespeare in the library.”

With a deflated sigh of utter relief, the Doctor sagged against the table. He ran his hands through his already wild hair and over his face. He looked exhausted, face drawn, dark circles beneath his eyes, and though Mickey never scrutinized the Doctor’s attire, he swore that was the same shirt and tie (loosened haphazardly though it was) from yesterday.

“I meant from yesterday.” Mickey paused. “Relative time, of course.”

The Doctor eyed him. “Of course.”

“What happened between her and the TARDIS? Is Rose okay from that?”

Mickey had seen the Doctor worry over exactly two things in the time they knew each other. The TARDIS and Rose.

(Never about saving the world, oh no. He always sauntered in like John Wayne, minus the guns, and wielded his sonic screwdriver like a madman as he raced around the place spouting all the reasons why he was cleverer than everyone else.

Damn man.

He usually was.)

“I checked,” the Doctor said but it lacked its usual You’re-an-Idiot-Mickey tone.

It did not reassure Mickey one damn bit.

“I know. You ran tests and checked and quadruple checked, I’m sure,” Mickey agreed. He stalked forward, worry churning unpleasantly in his gut. “And she’s okay?”

“Mickey,” the Doctor said with a bit of his old condescending sneer. 

“Doctor,” Mickey parroted. “Is Rose all right?”

The Doctor sighed. “I think so.”

“That why you’re hiding in here?” Mickey demanded.

“I’m not—I’m not hiding,” he spluttered.

Mickey almost laughed. He did like the spluttering.

“I’m…” the Doctor sighed and raked his fingers through his hair again.

“You’re as blind as ever,” Mickey sighed. He shook his head and turned to leave. “I watched other you dance around Rose like she was every star in the sky and you were terrified of getting too close. Afraid of being burned.”

Mickey looked over his shoulder. “Now you’re doing the same thing. Twice now Rose saved you with the TARDIS. And here you are. Hiding away from her. You really don’t deserve her.”

“I know!” the Doctor shouted.

Stunned, Mickey turned fully around, but the Doctor had his back to him, hunched over his workbench, fingers gripping the edges so hard his knuckles whitened. Back tense through his shirts, every muscle vibrated with—rage and fear and…and _hope_.

With infinite gentleness, the Doctor reached over and picked up some sort of black and red hair decoration. He cradled it in his large hands as if the most precious of gems. As if he cradled an entire world in those hands. 

It moved Mickey in a way he hadn’t realized was possible. A few days ago (relative time) he’d been ready with his I-Told-You-So-Dance. Now he understood.

“I think you’re an idiot,” he said, the words thick. Mickey swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’ll say this once. And never, ever again.”

Mickey took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling. That lump of emotion threatened to choke him, and the envy he felt slithering through his veins wasn’t because of the love and affection and devotion Rose and the Doctor shared.

It was because he wanted to feel that level of devotion with someone, too.

“Rose will do everything for you. She opened the Heart of the TARDIS to save you and she did some freaky something with the ship to save you again. I know you love her above everyone and everything else because you keep sending her home to keep her safe.”

He stopped and had to swallow again. Stepping back, he leaned against the wall, the coral a reassuring presence along his spine. As if the TARDIS Herself propped him up mentally as well as physically.

“Don’t cock it up, Doctor. You’ll both just be miserable. Gotta seize the day, eh?” Mickey straightened and swallowed the rest of his speech.

The Doctor didn’t need to hear it. What he needed to hear was, “And if you break her heart, I’ll make sure the TARDIS hunts you down.”

The Doctor jerked upright but Mickey merely nodded. He stepped out of the workshop door, and turned the way he came.

“Come on,” he said to the TARDIS. “Let’s finish our Halo game. And do me a favor, yeah?”

Mickey followed the lights down corridors and through random archways. “Don’t let him hide away. If he didn’t love Rose, that’d be one thing. Any fool can see that’s not the case.”

He turned into the kitchen to load up on snacks and drinks. “Can you do that? I’m sure you can. Magnificent ship you are.”

The lights brightened considerably in acknowledgement. And, of course, the TARDIS’s hum purred. Mickey patted the wall and smiled.

“You won’t let him be an idiot, yeah? Now come on, we have the Flood to stop!”

**Author's Note:**

> *Quote from Einstein: If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?


End file.
